


private lessons

by hunted



Series: Original Works [33]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Characters (Aged 21 or Older), Adult Content, Aftercare, Age Play, Begging, Blackmail, Breathplay, Choking, Coercion, Consensual Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Don't Like Don't Read, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, Forced Crossdressing, Happy Ending, Home Invasion Fantasy, Humiliation, Impregnation Kink, Incest Play, Janitor Roleplay, Loss of Virginity, Love, M/M, Manhandling, Marijuana, Penetration (Front Hole Sex), Power Imbalance, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Roughness, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, School Uniforms, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Violence, Slapping, Smoking, Swearing, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Tenderness, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Verbal Humiliation, Virginity Kink, Virginity Roleplay, You Have Been Warned, see story notes, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunted/pseuds/hunted
Summary: Arthur, a trans man, roleplays as a helpless trans boy named Archie. His boyfriend takes part......This is a dark story which explores some heavy roleplay themes. AFAB language is used for the trans man's genitals. Everything is tagged, and the author is FTM. If you do not wish to read this story, please, do not read it. I have included more information in the notes, for the safety of all readers. Do not repost this work elsewhere. I do not give permission for my writing to be copied.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Original Works [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480958
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	private lessons

**Author's Note:**

> **I do not condone sexual assault.** This is a fantasy and nothing more. Please see [this article](https://metro.co.uk/2017/11/29/why-do-half-of-women-have-fantasies-about-being-raped-7099630/) to learn more about rape fantasies. The article focusses on cis women specifically, but is a good starting point regardless of your gender identity or sexual orientation. All kinds of people, whether LGBT+ or not, experience sexual fantasies. If you are drawn to rough kinks as a survivor of sexual assault, give [this article](https://www.vice.com/en_au/article/3k5gey/when-rape-survivors-have-rape-antasies) a read. People who have rape fantasies do not actually want to be raped. In reality, rape is traumatising, exhausting, and debilitating, and I am not disregarding the seriousness of those experiences. The imagined kink of dubcon/noncon sex draws on a powerlessness which is entirely within a person's control. Without safewords, prior discussion, and mutual consent **(between adults)** , rough sex can potentially be dangerous or traumatising. Do your research and stay safe, before engaging in _any_ kind of roleplay. People can use rough roleplay as a way to process/move beyond sexual trauma and dysphoria, but it's not for everybody, and you can harm yourself if you push yourself too far. Also, please note that breath play is potentially [very dangerous](https://www.jhunewsletter.com/article/2010/11/a-peek-behind-the-curtain-the-basics-of-bdsm-and-breath-play-90395/#:~:text=Prolonged%20use%20of%20breath%2Dplay,damage%20from%20lack%20of%20oxygen.), and choking is often not worth the risk in IRL play.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> To learn more about characterising trans men appropriately, please see [this guide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475404). Just because I write FTM smut doesn't mean I condone the infantilisation and fetishisation of trans guys. I also write top trans men, as seen in [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22857451/chapters/54631726), [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667837), and [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079508/chapters/63431953). Not all trans men are bottoms. Not all trans men are gay. Certain trans men having masochistic inclinations does not mean a man would ever want to be mistreated outside of roleplay, and you shouldn't assume all trans men are submissive just because they're trans. That's kinda like assuming all black guys are sexually aggressive (a trope that unfortunately persists in porn, even today). The kink character "Archie" is a dramatised, hyper-submissive sexual trope. Arthur is the actual, realistic trans man. You'll find, out in the real world, that most trans men more resemble Arthur than Archie.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> It goes without saying that, if you experience sadistic inclinations which would propel you to harm a person or molest them, you should go see a therapist. Just because dark fantasies _can_ be engaged with healthily, does not automatically mean you _are_ being healthy. If you think uninvited sexual touching is okay, you need to reflect on how deeply fucked-up that is. **Other people's masochistic fantasies are not an excuse for assault.** Exit this tab, go find a therapist, and confront the truth of what you're thinking about doing. Similarly, if you think underage sex is okay, you can fuck off. Go to therapy.

The room was dark, overhead lights turned off, all the teachers and students having gone home many hours ago. Archie’s fingers ached from how hard he was gripping the edge of the desk.

"Ah, ah, ah...!"

His cheekbone was bruised from colliding with the wood when he had been pushed down, jaw sore as he grit his teeth in an attempt to stay silent. Despite the time of night, fear still churned inside his gut. He was terrified that someone would hear the sounds of solid, rhythmic banging, accompanied by the satisfied grunts of the man standing behind him. He didn’t want anyone to wander over to the classroom door and see him like this.

“Feels so fucking good,” the man growled.

Archie squeezed his eyes shut, cheeks flushed with the heat of humiliation and sex.

"Hnn, hnn.... Hnn- ahh!"

This nightmare had started very recently. The boy had noticed the janitor watching him when he went to classes. The stranger with the heavy brow and dark eyes, wearing his plain uniform, stared at him like he was a slab of juicy meat. Hungry in ways Archie had tried not to understand, a tingle of fear tickling the back of the boy's neck, a stranger's attention zeroed in on him from across hallways and gymnasiums. That sense of unease had crept below his skin, nestled itself in his mind, but he’d decided to ignore it.

He shouldn’t have.

Two days ago, the janitor had cornered him in the locker room. Ripped off his pants, held his legs open, and taken a picture of the secret that sat between his trembling thighs. Made his demands clear. So now, Archie was here, the tips of his toes only just touching the ground, body rocked by brutal thrusts, a dick inside him for the very first time. It was long. Hard. Deep. His body felt hot in ways it had never been before, slickness building and overflowing. The slapping of skin. The violence of it all. Desk papers shoved to the floor, pencils rolling from the table and clattering against linoleum. The janitor had made him wear a girl’s uniform tonight, wanted to fuck him in it. A skirt and a blouse. The very clothes Archie had refused to wear since he was young, now cruelly soft against his skin as he was violated. The _squelch, squelch, squelch_ of sex.

Waves of dark hair fell across Archie's face, curling against his brow, unkempt and mussed by insistent fingers. He was trying not to moan. He was trying not to sob. He didn't know what he was feeling. It was all too much. Overwhelming. All-encompassing. An icy feeling, boiling and frozen at the same time, paralysing him. He was a ragdoll beneath this man's insistent grip, aware of nothing but the spread of his wet, aching hole. The act of fucking.

The janitor leaned down, licking the side of Archie’s face, painting a stripe of wetness that made the boy gag. His stubble scratched against milky soft skin, cigarette-bitter breath tainting the boy's scent. He didn’t relent in his brutal pace, hands all over Archie's body, feeling and groping him.

“Pussy feels so good. So good. Fuck. Do your friends know about it?”

Archie’s mouth tightened into a grimace, tears finally falling from his lashes, throat straining as he held back sobs.

“Aw, I’ve upset you,” the man breathed excitedly, reaching both hands up under Archie’s shirt, feeling for breasts that weren’t there, “You don’t like that you have a pussy? This cunt right here?”

“Please stop,” Archie sobbed, “Please don’t, ah, f- fuck...”

“Yeah, that’s right, cry, cry for me, bitch,”

“Please don’t, I’m not,” Archie cried, “I’m not a girl, please- unh, ahh- stop,”

"Bullshit." The man’s rough hands were against his skin, groping his chest, squeezing what little plumpness there was, tweaking his nipples cruelly. “You want your friends to know you have a cunt, huh? You want them to fuck you, too?”

“No... No, please- please don’t, ah, no...”

“Then you gotta let me fuck you," the man crooned the words, gasping against Archie’s jaw with perverse excitement, “It’s our secret, hmm? Just you and me, just you and me,”

“Please stop-”

“God, your tight hole is the fucking greatest, fucking love being inside you, young pussies are the best."

“Please no, please, please, take it out, take it out!”

Archie began to scream, composure fracturing. The janitor slapped both hands on his wrists and pinned him down, pressed hard up against the boy’s smaller body. He hammered his hips furiously back and forth, cock thrusting deep every single time, fluids squelching, the desk scraping against the floor as it was shifted. Archie kicked out helplessly, trying to escape. He couldn’t. He knew that the man wasn’t wearing a condom. He had to stop this before it was too late.

"Please stop, I don't w- want it, please," he wailed, "Please, please..."

"Feels like you want it," the janitor breathed, "Feels like you're enjoying this."

Archie shook his head frantically. "No! No, I don't, I- I'm not!"

"You sure?" The janitor slowed his thrusts as if to prove a point, dragging his cock slowly back and forth, swivelling his hips to drive the bulbous head deep within Archie's body, sparking entirely new sensations, "You don't like this? It doesn't feel good?"

Archie bit back a moan, cheeks wet with tears now. He was glad he'd been forced to lay facedown.

"Fucking answer me, kid. Do you like this?"

"No."

"You don't feel it? Here?" The man reached down, flattening his hand against Archie's stomach as he thrust into his small body. "The heat, the desire..."

"Please... Pl- please stop, ah..."

"Just admit you love it."

"No... No, I don't, I... Ah, unh, please...!"

The man laughed. He continued to grind his hips, which Archie almost hated more. He didn't want this to feel good. He wanted it to be over as soon as possible, wanted the man to spill inside him and just get it over with. He didn't want the creeping sensations of enjoyment, the blossoming feelings he'd never even encountered before, his body being educated in the worst way possible. His cunt stretching around a cock that was far too large, a mixture of their fluids easing its way inside. He wanted to go home. He wanted this to end.

***

_The man's hips paused. Arthur inhaled quietly, still crying. For a moment, stillness took hold of the room, the space between them._

_"We good?"_

_The question was soft and genuine, whispered against Arthur's ear. The trans man smiled, mildly annoyed that the scene had been interrupted, but glad for the reassurance nonetheless. He knew his partner needed this, too. Needed to know the pain wasn't real. They had to be responsible, if they were going to explore this kind of shit, fucked-up as it was. They had to be safe._

_"Green," he murmured in reply, "Yeah, baby, we're good. Keep going. Ruin me. Call me a dirty whore. Tell me I deserve it."_

_"Just like we talked about?"_

_"Just like we talked about," Arthur agreed._

_His partner– becoming the janitor once again– resumed fucking him. The stillness disappeared in an instant. The violence was back. A vulnerable boy being fucked against a desk, a larger body pressing down on him, his breaths short as he was immobilised by the heavier man._

***

"Please," Archie whined, wet noises filling the air as the sex continued on, slow and frustrating, "Please st- stop,"

"Why the fuck would I, when your pussy feels this good?"

"Please just... Just get it over with, please stop, ah, ah, I don't want th- this..."

The man laughed. "Don't know why you think it's over once I'm done tonight, bitch. I'm gonna be fucking you every single day from now on."

Horror filled Archie, brimming within him like a big, dark space, taking over every single atom of his being. His eyes glazed over, helplessness seeping into his very blood, all the struggle drained from him. Of course. Of course the janitor wasn't going to stop. He had the photographs. He had blackmail.

The boy couldn't even draw breath to protest. He just lay there and let the man fuck him.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Give in. You love this, don't you?"

Archie didn't reply.

"You deserve this. Walking around, looking so goddamn cute? Fucking bitch. This is what you get for having a pussy. Gonna come to your house. Fuck you in your bedroom, your parents won't even know. How about the supply closet, hmm? Right by your fucking classroom. Maybe your teachers will wanna join in."

The boy was silent. Hollow exhalations forced from his body every single time the man thrust into him. No reaction. The janitor wasn't a fan of that. Too goddamn boring. He straightened up, wrapping both hands around the boy's pale neck, and started to squeeze, hammering his hips brutally, fucking the kid so hard that the desk sounded like it would break. He held on for a good long while, and it was only when the boy's breaths were laboured and his cheeks were pink that he began fighting back, survival instinct kicking in, body tightening around the man's cock. The janitor eventually let go, and the boy gasped, torso seizing as he coughed.

"Stop..." His whispers were scratchy and pained, so delightfully helpless.

The janitor grinned. "Oh, you want me to stop?"

"Pl... Please..."

"I'm gonna come inside you, then. You want that?"

A pained, broken noise fell from the boy's lips, mangled and broken. The sound of a wounded puppy, primal and high-pitched.

"Is that a yes?"

"St... Just... Please, stop..."

"Then ask. Ask me to come inside you. That's the only way this stops,"

The boy sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, sniffing wetly. "I hate... you..."

"You think I give a shit?" The man sneered, "Ask me to come inside your pussy right now, you little slut, or I'm gonna fucking kill you. You want me to show your friends those photos? You want me to hold you down while they fuck you themselves? Bet they'd be so _curious_ to see what it's like."

Archie was quivering. Mindless, unwilling, shattered right down to the very core of his being. The janitor grabbed his thin shoulders and flipped him onto his back, slamming the boy down, face-up this time. Archie gazed up at his attacker, eyes watery and huge, lashes clumped by tears, his pretty face defiled. His skirt was soiled by moisture and come, shirt crinkled and askew.

"Fine. Don't cooperate. I wanna see your face when I come inside you. And make no mistake, whore," he grinned evilly, "this is gonna hurt."

He shoved inside the boy. Archie cried out, writhing, but the man held him still. Any cruelty that he meted out before couldn't compare to the punishment he forced upon Archie now. The boy had his chance to beg for it, so now, the man would force it on him the hard way.

It didn't take long for him to approach his climax. Not with the boy's face looking up at him so pitifully, not with the knowledge of his absolute power, his unquestioned dominance.

"Ah, ah, ah!"

"God, yeah, fuck, this feels so good-"

"No, no," Archie pleaded, "No, stop, don- don't! Ah, ahhn- Don't come inside me!"

The janitor slapped him, hard. The boy's head snapped to the side.

"You think I'll fucking stop now! You fucking slut, shut the fuck up, just take it, take it-"

"Stop!"

"Probably already pregnant anyway, stupid slut!"

"No! No! No!"

"Take it, take my fucking seed inside your young pussy, fucking cunt, bitch, whore!"

"No! I'll do anything! Stop!"

"Get you fucking pregnant, bitch, fuck...!" The man roared, hips slamming to a standstill, pumping his come inside Archie's body.

Archie screamed.

The man held him still, yelling in satisfaction. Thick, plentiful come leaked out from Archie's body, dripping onto the desk. The boy fell limp, defeated, his mind broken by the horror of it all. He felt used. Defiled. Sick.

The man pulled out, cock sliding obscenely from Archie's poor, abused cunt. He zipped up his trousers, tucking himself away.

"If you tell anyone about this," he began, tone low and threatening, "The whole school gets to see that photograph."

Archie nodded numbly. The man walked out.

***

_Arthur's boyfriend, Hamish, walked back into the room. The roleplay was over._

_His stride was hasty, worry for his partner evident in every step and in the tightness of his frown. No matter how many times they did this, no matter how well-versed Arthur was in rough roleplay, Hamish was always so frantic to ensure his partner got the care and love he deserved after such a hard scene._

_"Babe? You doing okay?"_

_Arthur was sprawled on his back, eyes unfocussed and glazed, lips parted, an expression of listless euphoria slackening his features._

_"Yeah, I'm so good," he slurred, words thickened by how emotionally overcome he was, "Fuck, that was so hot..."_

_Hamish helped him sit up, a blanket at the ready. He wrapped it around Arthur's shoulders, hugged him tightly, kissed him eagerly. Arthur leaned into him, loose-limbed and sleepy, nerves raw and exposed. He had been stripped back to his most vulnerable and aroused self. This scene took a great deal more effort to navigate than others. They had rules about what Arthur could, and could not, tolerate. What turned him on and what he despised. Hamish had been shocked, the first time Arthur proposed this. A grown man who wanted the very thing he'd fought for to be temporarily ripped from his arms. They'd talked about it at length. Hamish saw his boyfriend as a man, and nothing else. He almost hated the words that fell from his mouth, but they were words that Arthur wanted, only sometimes. Only between these walls, only between them. They were not in a school, not in public. Hamish had fucked Arthur in the study of their shared home, where it was safe. Private. Familiar._

_"Shower," Arthur mumbled._

_"Sounds good. Are you alright?"_

_"Better than alright. That was so fucking perfect."_

_"Okay. Just checking. You want me to make you hot chocolate while you shower?"_

_Arthur gazed up at him. His eyes were soft with a loving smile. "Yeah. Sure. Love you, baby."_

_Hamish kissed him. "Love you."_

***

_They had a code._

_Arthur arrived home from work, kissing Hamish on the cheek. They cooked pasta together, making calm conversation and smalltalk, slipping into the easeful atmosphere of two men that were intimately familiar with one another. They had lived together for several years. Hamish put on some quiet music, humming through the kitchen, pressing up against Arthur's back and swaying his hips. There was no urgency in this house, no pressure to fight for space or respect._

_They ate dinner on the couch, watched some Netflix. Arthur went away and washed the dishes, and when he came back, he had stripped down to a pair of patterned trunks. They were cute, with cartoonish bananas printed across them, but to this couple, they had a very specific significance. Hamish looked at him, their eyes meeting with intense energy, neither man moving for the longest moment. Arthur looked so delectable, standing there in his underwear, thighs furred since he had started Testosterone, chest willowy and flat, hair sticking up in wild curls. Hamish itched to grab a camera and capture this moment, but he knew he'd never be able to do his boyfriend justice with a still image. The man's presence hypnotised him. And the way they played together, the things they did in secrecy, were sins that he lived for._

_"I'm going to bed," Arthur told him, voice slipping into a softer, more breathy cadence. The character he took on during nights like these._

_Hamish nodded, as he had every other time. "I'll stay up for a while. Goodnight, baby."_

_Arthur nodded back at him, and turned to leave._

***

The house was as quiet as the grave. The boy’s bedroom was dark but for the glow of moonlight through the window and the orange hue of streetlights outside. There were band posters up on the wall, clothes hanging from a freestanding rack, and a small table with a computer, some books, and a desk lamp. A normal scene, at least for the time being. Archie was drifting off to sleep, mind foggy with the beginnings of a dream, when he heard the clack of his window being opened. Anxiety bubbled in his chest, hot and dizzying, heart immediately starting to race. Fully awake, he gripped the pillow, tears blooming in his eyes.

He knew exactly who was breaking into his bedroom. It had been only three days since the janitor fucked him in that classroom. He'd known that it was only a matter of time before that monster would come to reap the rewards of the photographs on his phone. Archie’s life was being ruined by pixels. He had fantasies about stealing the phone and ending this torture, but he couldn’t figure out how he’d get his hands on it.

Boots landed on the floor with quiet thuds. The window was slid shut. The mattress dipped beneath the weight of an adult man, a folded knee either side of Archie’s legs. He was immediately blanketed by a larger body, pressed down, pinned in place. Hands wandered beneath his body, grinning lips at his cheek, mouthing wetly against his skin. Groping, touching, caressing him. Hips slanting eagerly against his ass, grinding with rabid eagerness.

“Are your parents asleep?”

The questions was whispered, so quiet yet so loud in the space between them. Archie had begun to cry, quietly enough that he hoped the man wouldn’t hear him.

“Answer me, boy.”

Archie sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to sob too loudly. “They- They’re asleep,” he breathed, voice hitching. He’d only worn trunks to bed, the full expanse of his smooth chest pressed against the sheets, thin fabric the only thing left to protect him.

“Better be quiet then. Don’t wanna wake them up.”

“Please, ple- please don’t,”

“Shut up.” The man slid his hand beneath Archie’s underwear, tugging them off. Archie gripped the pillow, hid his face in it as he began to sob more helplessly. Thick fingers, rough and insistent, pressed up against his front hole.

“Your dad ever try and fuck you?”

Archie’s cheeks burned with a humiliated flush. What the fuck kind of a question was that? He squeezed his eyes shut.

“No.”

“Shame. Hey,” the man’s voice dipped into a husky, disturbingly excited tone, “how about we pretend I’m your dad, huh?”

“No.”

“Yeah,” the man curled his fingers inside Archie, twisting his wrist determinedly, driving as deep as the angle would allow, “Yeah, call me daddy, fucking slut boy.”

“I don’t- ah- want to, hnn- please-”

“You call me daddy, bitch, or I’m gonna show that fucking photo to all your friends. How you feel about that, huh?”

Archie shook his head, but didn’t reply, or move to stop the man molesting him. It was obvious where the balance of power lay.

“Call me your daddy.”

“I don’t wan-”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want.” The man grabbed a handful of Archie’s hair, fist tightening into a punishing grip, Archie’s scalp burning, his neck tugged painfully.

“Stop, stop, okay, okay- daddy,” he said, hating the way that word tasted, hating the spark of arousal in his belly, the feeling of being so small in his childhood bed, “Daddy, daddy please stop, daddy-”

His face was shoved into the pillow. Archie stayed there, sobbing. He heard the wet sounds of lubricant being squirted onto a cock, spread liberally about by the pumping of a fist.

“Please stop-”

“I don’t have time to put up with your whining,” the man said, in almost a distracted tone, more focussed on stroking his dick, “You don’t want me to tear up your pretty pussy, do you? You should be grateful, son.”

Archie shuddered at that word, the filthy fantasy the man was forcing on him. He swallowed back his protests, knowing he had to be quiet. He was so terrified his parents would hear what was happening, that they’d see him with his legs open, about to be raped by an intruder.

The janitor leaned down again, taking Archie's waist in hand and forcing the boy to curve the small of his back, angling his hips. He nudged the head of his cock between Archie’s pert buttcheeks, sliding down and then inside, seeking the opening of his cunt.

“It hurts, stop,” Archie begged, voice rising in desperation, “Please stop daddy, it hurts-”

"Shh."

"Ah- ah, n- no, please, it's too big-"

The man covered his mouth with one hand, laying heavily down against him, jerking his hips forward now, shoving his cock deep inside. Archie tried not to scream.

“Yeah, fuck. Feel so good, boy. Or do you prefer _girl?”_

Archie tried to bite his hand. Never. He never wanted to be called that.

“If you’re not a girl, then this should be okay. Boys don’t get pregnant.” A snide cruelty snuck into the man’s voice, and he pushed hard into Archie’s body, prompting a muffled wail of pain. “So it’s fine, right? For me to come inside your slutty hole.”

"Mmm! Mmf!"

"Yeah, take it, take it inside."

The bedframe began to groan, mattress creaking. The fucking became rhythmic, cruel, unstoppable. Archie held on for dear life, unable to think of anything but the way his body yielded and tightened.

“Fuck yeah, you feel so good. So good.”

_Please stop_ , Archie wanted to say, _Please take it out of me._

“Do your parents know what a whore you are?”

_I’m not a whore, I’m not, I’m not...!_

“Maybe I should bring my friends around, hmm? We can all fill your cunt up with our seed. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

_No! No!_ Archie tried to flail his way to freedom, inching up the bed, but was held still. He could feel slickness painting the insides of his thighs, hear the squelch of lube.

“No getting away, bitch. Stay still. Gonna breed you. Gonna put it all up inside.”

_Stop! Stop!_

The guy must’ve been hungry for this, aching to get his dick inside Archie’s hole, because it wasn't long before he was grunting and growling, slamming as he neared his orgasm, ignoring Archie’s muffled protests.

“Fuck yeah, shit, so goddamn tight, gonna breed you up good.”

_Stop! No!_

"You love this, you fucking love this, you slut. You slut!"

_No! I don't!_

“I’m fucking you in your parents' house, little boy, you little fucking whore, fuck yeah, yeah.”

_Stop it! Stop it!_

Archie yanked his head to the side, escaping the clutch of the man's palm. "Help! Help me-"

Quickly, he was silenced once again. Hands around his neck this time, his head lolling helplessly as he was fucked from behind.

"Shouldn't have done that, you bitch."

Hair fell in his eyes, tears streaming down his face, hands fluttering desperately against the white- knuckled grip around his throat. He tried to yell for help, pushed beyond the pride of wanting to hide his violation from his parents, but all he could manage was a wet clicking sound, voice stifled by unrelenting pressure. He was getting dizzy. His eyes were falling closed.

_Please no, please..._

"No mercy now. You stupid bitch. You deserve this."

_No, no, no..._

"Fuck yeah, fuck, take your daddy's cock, fuck!"

The hollow ghost of a gasp fell from Archie's lips as the janitor came inside him. To his shame, his body quivered, sensations rolling through him, hole clamping down around the man's cock. He came, shuddering, falling limp against the mattress, their fluids mixing.

"Fuck," the man breathed, chest rising and falling as he panted for air, "You dirty slut, you came, didn't you? You came from being fucked by daddy."

He finally let go of Archie's neck. The boy gasped for air, colours sparking in his eyes, head swimming. He whined when the man pulled his cock out, leaving a wet and sore sensation in his wake. The mattress shifted when he stood, weight lifting off the bed. He dressed himself again, leaving his victim where he was.

"I'll be back," he promised cruelly, smiling, "If you tell anyone about this-"

"I won't," Archie swore, voice scratchy and strained, "I won't."

***

_They showered together, and went back to bed after Hamish had changed the sheets. Arthur curled against him, sighing contentedly. His body ached, and now he relaxed into the mattress, tension dissolving from his every limb. Their cat batted open the bedroom door and wandered inside, hopping up onto the bed and snuggling between the two men. Hamish drew his fingers through the cat's soft fur, purring sounds vibrating comfortingly through them both._

_"Hey, babe?"_

_"Mm," Arthur mumbled, inches from sleep._

_"Could we try something vanilla, soon?"_

_Arthur opened his eyes, gazing tiredly at his boyfriend. "You're sick of the roleplay?"_

_"Not... sick of it, exactly. It's just," Hamish smiled, reaching over to stroke Arthur's cheek, "I want some time with... just you. Not in the fantasy. Just us. And playing that role gets... a bit intense, sometimes."_

_Arthur grinned, and slid his hand over Hamish's, their fingers interlocking, falling onto the bed. He flexed his foot, brushing his toes along the side of Hamish's calf._

_"Of course. Are you okay?"_

_"I'm okay," Hamish whispered, smiling wider now, "And I know you like it rough. So do I. Let's just... change it up a bit, yeah?"_

_Arthur nodded. He leaned across the bed and kissed his boyfriend, much to the cat's annoyance, who gave a grumpy meow at being shifted from a comfortable position. The pair laughed, patting the long-suffering feline._

_Within half an hour, they were all asleep._

***

_They had normal sex for a long while. And it was nice. Really nice._

_Hamish loved moving against Arthur as equals, loved the organic dynamic of their kisses, loved the ebb and flow of dominance between them. He loved the gently bruising grip of Arthur's fingers around his wrists, loved it when he was pressed down into the mattress, folded knees either side of his waist as Arthur rode him fiercely. The intensity of their homelife settled, and they started to focus more on their careers, the domesticity of cohabitation as vanilla and peaceful as their neighbours’._

_It was only in the absence of hardcore roleplay that Hamish really started to appreciate all the freedom it had brought into their life._

_Within no time at all, he agreed to another scene._

***

Archie walked into the principal’s office, cheeks flushed from embarrassment and anxiety, eyes downcast, fingers knotted in a fretful grasp. He hadn’t ever gotten in trouble or been pulled out of class. The teacher’s curt demand that he go to the principal’s office had sent his mind into overdrive, paranoia whispering terrible possibilities in his ear. Had he done badly in his homework? Had he accidentally upset somebody? He tried not to draw attention to himself. He had been certain he was being a good boy.

When he arrived in the office, he saw the principal sitting behind his desk. He had half-lidded eyes and a stern face, and when Archie timidly walked in, he closed his laptop shut.

“Archie,” he said, voice flat and unimpressed, “Take a seat.”

Archie did, almost quivering with worry about what he’d done wrong. The principal stood without a further word. Archie felt so small in the hard chair. His heart began sprinting in his chest, icy hot anxiety trembling through every limb, when he heard the door to the office being locked. The mechanisms of the lock clicked with a terrifying finality. He knew, then, what would happen next. Even if he prayed that it wouldn’t.

The principal’s steps approached him from behind. Before Archie could even draw breath to ask what he’d done wrong, a large hand was seizing the nape of his neck, yanking him up out of his chair, fingers wrapped around the fragile skin of his throat. Archie choked, hands flying up to flap uselessly against the teacher’s unforgiving grip. He was shoved forward, hips colliding with the edge of the desk, and then his head was being forced down, forehead against smooth wood. Curls of hair fell in his eyes, tears flooding his eyes, making his gaze watery as he looked across the desk.

“Pl- Please, no, Mr Principal-”

“The janitor’s been talking with me, boy,” the principal hissed, leaning down to whisper the words into Archie’s ear, “I know what you’ve been doing with him.”

Archie sobbed. His shorts were pulled down, underwear too. Thick fingers pressed against his hole, found lingering wetness there.

“No- Please don’t touch there, please, I-”

“You been fucking him, haven’t you? Whore? Huh? You been fucking the janitor? He fill you up before you came to class? He rape you in the bathroom? He fuck you before you caught the bus? I can feel his come inside you.”

The man dipped his fingers inside, a wet squelch hitting the air. Archie cried harder. The principal leaned over him, hard against his back, and slapped a hand over his mouth. Archie wailed louder, tried to sink his teeth into the man’s palm, but couldn’t gain purchase. When he struggled, he was simply pinned in place.

“I know he’s been coming to your house,” the principal growled in his ear, “Filling you up while your parents are in the next room. If you can take his cock, you can take mine.” He fumbled to undo his trousers, belt clinking. “You want good grades, huh? You wanna graduate, kid?”

_He can’t do this,_ Archie thought desperately, struggling harder, slender hands reaching desperately for anything he could grab onto. _He can’t do this to me too._

Papers were sent flying, a jar of pens tipped over, but still, the principal’s assault was relentless. Archie cried louder when he felt the head of a hard, dripping cock against his cunt. His muffled voice turned hysterical when the principal pushed deep inside, not pausing to savour the moment. The receptionists would hear, if he delayed.

He immediately started thrusting his hips, working his cock deep inside the poor boy. The desk creaked rhythmically.

“Keep quiet. You want someone to see you like this? Fuck, yeah, fuck.” The principal, still fully dressed, jerked his body back and forth. Archie felt the fabric of his shirt and trousers against him. His little feet kicked out uselessly, while the teacher stood powerfully and steadily over him. “You want them to see you being fucked in your cunt? You want it so bad. You wanted this. Yeah, yeah, yeah, so tight, so tight! Fuck!”

His words were breathed curses, filthy things that made Archie quake. Without even deciding to stop fighting, he went limp, giving in. He laid there, crushed against the desk, a fleshy length forced deep inside him.

The principal fucked him hard. Archie didn’t resist.

When the man was done, he groaned, filling the boy up with his thick seed. When he pulled out, a string of white dripped from the boy’s pink folds. He stepped back, pulled his trousers up. Trembling, Archie stood too. With unsteady hands, he pulled his shorts up. Come ran down the insides of his legs, stained his uniform.

“You won’t tell anyone about this.”

Archie nodded numbly.

**END**

***

Weeks later, the night was settling warmly against their home, moonlight turning everything white and pale. Arthur sat up in bed, quietly smoking some weed. His lips pursed around fragile paper, specks of flickering fire slowly making their way closer to his mouth. The drugs pulsed through him warmly, the world fuzzy and abstract, all the tension draining from his muscles.

He tapped the cigarette against the edge of an ashtray on their bedside table, and then resumed taking a long, heady drag.

Next to him, Hamish slept. Arthur watched him, noticed the gentle rising and falling of his chest, the way creases and wrinkles smoothed out as he dreamed. So often, he seemed stressed and overwhelmed by the world. Arthur was happy to see his partner so calm. It felt good. It was a different kind of calm to the one that they found after roleplaying; the overstimulated, cheerfully bruised, vulnerable silence that came from being so relentlessly and roughly fucked. This calm was quieter, perhaps more profound.

Arthur had always been a kinky motherfucker. He was just glad he'd found someone who was willing to explore that with him, who was able to take him to heights he just couldn't reach otherwise. But he knew Hamish needed these quiet times too, needed days spent in the average, unexciting trudge of a normal couple's dynamic. Besides, what fun was rough roleplay, if you did it every single night? Better to keep it suspenseful, maintain the comparison.

He tapped his cigarette on the ashtray again, hand returning to his face like clockwork once the ash was shaken free.

_Better for both of us_ , Arthur reasoned silently, _He needs a rest._

He had been worried, at first. Worried that his partner would think he was a freak, that he was some kind of sexual deviant, that his kinks meant he wasn't really a man at all. He was. He was a man right down to his bones. He was a man when he went to work, when he came home, when he slept, when he fucked, when he took a shit. Being a man never went away. It wasn't his fault that he'd grown up answering to female pronouns and a female name. It wasn't his fault that he'd taken dysphoria trauma and sexualised it, turned it into a fucked-up fantasy.

The world had forced him, so he'd turned force into a fetish.

At first, it'd been about survival; some weird coping mechanism that had been so innate he'd not even realised what was happening until it was too late. He knew he wasn't the only one. Adventures into BDSM forums had been very reassuring on that front. Human beings were just... like this. He figured that his burden was just different to other peoples'. Some folks got off to clowns throwing pies at them, after being terrified by clowns during childhood. Some people liked wearing diapers and pissing themselves in public spaces, liked the humiliation and the thrill of being caught. Trauma and sex and foundational experiences all meshed into one weird, wonderful, occasionally concerning universe. Desire and fixation. Conditioning and coping.

Arthur sat there and thought about all this, and continued to smoke. The marijuana deepened his internal ramblings, his sense of curiosity and self-reflection. But he felt calm. He felt safe. He went to therapy, he knew he was sane, he knew he was okay. Some people just had kinks. He was okay.

He reached over, slid a hand onto Hamish's shoulder. The other man didn't stir, so deeply asleep that he had begun to drool onto the pillow. Arthur was so madly in love with him. So thankful for his devotion and his patience.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Arthur mumbled, "Probably get back on Grindr. Hook up with some assholes. No safewords. Get treated like shit. End up drinking to forget."

Hamish continued to doze. Arthur ground his cigarette out and curled up behind his partner, hugging him tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> As stated at the beginning of this story, this is a sexual fantasy which is completely different to real life. For what it's worth, it is not uncommon for victims of rape or sexual assault to become aroused throughout an attack. It doesn't mean they want it, it's just the body's reaction to stimulus. Many people think that cis men cannot be raped because they become erect throughout an encounter, for example, but this is untrue. If sex is occurring without the consent of both parties, then it is an assault. Anyone can be assaulted, no matter their demographic, and rapists are not exclusively cis men. If you have been placed in a situation where you couldn't freely consent, and sexual activity occurred without your permission, then I encourage you to seek support. Coming to terms with the fact that you may have been assaulted is a big deal, and not something you have to go through on your own.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Fantasising about rough sex in a context removed from real life is not the same as experiencing something traumatising, nor is the experience of rape anything like a person's fantasy. Untangling your sexual desires and fixations can be tricky, and in all cases, I advise seeking therapeutic guidance to ensure you are your healthiest and safest self. Please ensure you're not turning to rough sexual fantasies as a form of self harm, whether in response to a past sexual assault, or in response to extreme gender dysphoria.


End file.
